


what's it feel like to be a ghost?

by poetictragedy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ghosts, talk of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-16
Updated: 2012-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-16 10:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/538554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetictragedy/pseuds/poetictragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s a ghost and is four year old Sam’s imaginary friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what's it feel like to be a ghost?

”Gotta fin’ me, Dee!” Sam squeals as he hides behind the couch, covering his mouth with both hands, giggling against his palms. He crouches down on the floor and presses his back against the couch, looking out for Dean. Instead, he sees his mom and she walks over to him, stooping down a foot away from him with a smile.

“What are you doing, Sammy?” She asks, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair.

Making a face, Sam presses a finger to his lips. “Playin’ hide seek wif Dee,” he answers in a hushed voice, looking up at his mother with big, bright green eyes. “Don’ tell him where I hiding, mama!”

“I won’t tell him, promise.” Mary smiles and holds a finger up to her own lips, listening to Sam giggle as she stands up. “When you’re done, I’ll make you lunch, okay?”

“Kay mama!” Sam says in a bright voice, smiling. “Oh no,” he squeals suddenly, turning to look away from his mom, spotting Dean behind her. “He find me!”

“Oh no!” Mary covers her mouth and backs away, tiptoeing back to the kitchen, watching her son as he scurries across the floor. He disappears around the side of the couch and she shakes her head, amused at how much fun Sam seems to be having with his imaginary friend.

When Sam gets to the front of the couch, he gasps loudly and giggles. “Dee!”

“Hey, Sammy. I found you,” Dean says, smiling at the little boy.

“No fair!”

Laughing, Dean shakes his head. “It was totally fair and you know it.”

“Oh,” Sam says, scrunching his face up and pushing his bottom lip out slightly. He looks up at Dean, studying him carefully, and nods slowly. “Wan’ play another game?” 

“Sure. What do you wanna play?” With a fond smile, Dean watches Sam tap his bottom lip with his forefinger, eyes narrowing slightly as he pokes his lower lip out some more.

“Cops and robbers!” When Sam suggests that, Dean’s face falls and he shakes his head slowly, eyes going dark. “Why no’?”

Sighing, Dean moves over to Sam and chews his lip. “You know why, Sammy. I explained it to you the first time you saw me. Do you remember what I said?”

Sam catches his lower lip between his teeth and nods, tears welling up in his eyes as he looks down at his lap. “Uh-huh,” he answers, sniffling.

“What did I say?” Dean asks, voice soft and soothing.

“You - you - you —”

“Calm down, Sam.”

Taking a deep breath, Sam nods and looks at Dean again. “You said,” he starts, whispering as he leans forward, “that we can’t play that game ‘cause you were shotted by a bad guy.”

“Shot,” Dean corrects, laughing when Sam’s face screws up. “And that’s right. I don’t want to be reminded of that, even though I remember it every day because I’m stuck in this house.”

“What’s ‘stuck’ mean, Dee?” Sam asks innocently, sitting back on his heels.

“It means that I have to stay here for a very long time.”

Sam nods and blinks, tears rolling off his eyelashes. “But… but you’re gonna stay here wif me, right? Right, Dee? You said — you said you not leaving me.”

“That’s right, buddy,” Dean says, smiling softly. “I’m not going to leave you. I’ll still be here when you’re eighteen and you go off to college and forget all about me.”

“Not going anywhere!” Sam suddenly shrieks, tears rolling down his face as he looks at Dean. “Not leavin’ my Dee! Don’t  _wanna_  leave!” 

The fit catches Mary’s attention and she comes into the living room, immediately picking Sam up. She cradles him in her arms and lets him cry against her shoulder, his little arms wrapped around her neck.

“What’s the matter Sammy?” She asks, smoothing a hand down his back as he cries, burying his face against Mary’s neck as he sobs.

In between hiccuping sobs, Sam chokes out, “Don’t - wanna - leave - Dee. Can’t - leave - ‘im - mama.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mary says as she moves her hand up, cradling the back of Sam’s head as she sways slightly. “You’re not going anywhere, baby.”

“But he — he says I’m gon’ leave him!” Sam wails, bunching the material of his mother’s shirt in his small fists, his body heaving as he cries harder. From a few feet away, Dean watches, wishing that he could help Sam and feeling helpless when he realizes that he can’t.

Mary chuckles quietly and shakes her head, sitting on the couch with Sam. “You’re not going anywhere for a long time, okay? You and Dee are always going to be with each other, I promise.”

“You… pwomise?” Sam asks, settling onto his mothers lap, wiping his face with both hands as he turns to look at Dean, who’s nodding. “I don’ wan’ Dee to go no where either,” he adds, wiping tears away from his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sammy. I’ll always be with you, I promise. Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Dean says, laughing quietly. “Now stop crying, kid. I thought we were gonna play a game?”

Sam turns back to his mom with his bottom lip poked out. “Can I go play wif Dee again?”

“Sure, sweetheart.” Mary smiles and leans forward, kissing Sam’s forehead. “But don’t forget about lunch, okay? I’m sure Dee won’t like you skipping meals.” Dean shakes his head when Mary says that and Sam turns to look at him, nodding.

“He say no,” Sam informs her, smiling wide at Dee. “Gon’ go to my room now, mama,” he says as he scrambles off her lap. A second later, he’s running off toward the stairs, climbing up them carefully as Dean follows, laughing quietly. 

When they get to Sam’s room, he climbs onto his bed and watches Dean stroll in, both hands in his pockets. Sam looks at him carefully and frowns, crossing both of his legs as he pulls a teddy bear onto his lap, wrapping both arms around it.

“What’s the frown for?” Dean asks, quirking a brow.

“Why you wear those clothes _all_  the time?”

Dean hesitates before stepping forward, getting as close to Sam’s bed as he can before kneeling in front of it, moving his hands to his knees, sighing. “I’m going to tell you a story, okay? But you can’t tell it to anyone, not even your mama or your daddy — no one, got me, Sammy?”

“Got you!” Sam says, giggling quietly.

“Okay,” Dean says, chuckling nervously. “The reason I can’t change clothes is because… Well, it’s because I’m dead, Sammy. Do you know that means?”

“Uh-huh,” Sam replies, nodding. “Nana says that papa is dead and - and that he’s at peas now.”

“I think you mean  _peace_.”

“Yeah.” With a giggle, Sam buries his chin against the top of his teddy bear’s head, looking at Dean with big eyes. “Does it hurt?”

Pursing his lips, Dean shrugs a shoulder. “It did, but not anymore. Remember when I told you that I was shot by a bad guy?” Sam nods and clutches his bear tightly. “I got caught up in some bad stuff that I didn’t mean to, and the bad man shot me for no reason. That’s why I’m stuck in this house; I can’t go anywhere because I died here.”

“You…” Sam breathes, his eyes going wide. “Are you a angel?”

“Probably not,” Dean says, laughing. “Just a spirit, tethered to this world for some reason and I don’t know what my reason is, not really.”

“Is your raisin—”

Dean laughs and Sam goes red. “Reason, Sammy,” he corrects, winking.

“Oh… is your r-reason me?”

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe. You certainly are a reason I want to stay around, so who knows?”

Sam nods his head and yawns quietly, squeaking out, “When did you died?”

“It was years ago, I can’t even remember. I was sixteen when I died,” Dean says, shrugging his shoulders with a sigh. “But you cannot tell your mom or your dad, okay?”

“Kay Dee,” Sam says, yawning again. “Dee?”

“What is it, little man?”

Hesitating, Sam plays with his teddy bear’s ear. “Love you, Dee,” he finally whispers, his voice breaking. “Don’t want you to be died!”

“Sammy, shh..” Dean sighs, wishing he could reach out and console Sam. “I love you too, buddy, but there’s nothing that can be done about me being dead. It happened before you were born.”

“Don’t leave me, Dee,” Sam says quietly as he lays on his side, looking at Dean for a moment before his eyelashes flutter shut. “Pwomise you won’t go,” he adds, his breathing slowing down as he loosens his grip on the bear.

“I promise,” Dean whispers as he stands, moving a hand over Sam’s hair, just barely feeling his energy. “I’ll never leave you.”


End file.
